in your arms tonight, every night
by agent iz hyper
Summary: In which John falls asleep on the couch and wakes to find himself being used as a cuddle-bear by Sherlock. / Fluffy cuddle!fic. Because Jawnlock. And why not? ;P / Gift-fic for RemyMcKwakker and inspired by her adorable cuddly-Johnlock drawing to which the link can be found inside. Cheers, bro. ;)


_**in your arms tonight, every night**_

**Heads-up – **_**fluff abound**_**. xP Johnlock fluff (duh) and I kinda melted while writing this 'cause of – oh yeah, this is **_**gifted to Remy**_** (**_**RemyMcKwakker**_**) because thanks to her freaking adorable artwork of ze Johnlock-couch-cuddle, (found here: remymckwakker dot tumblr dot com / post / 57596787266 / john-is-tired-out-sleeping-on-the-couch-when) I was swamped by a cuddly!fic bunny and thus had to write this fic and yes thanks bro now I'm a melted mess and can't move **_**because I am all melted**_** I hope you're happy. *pokes***

**Anyway. Hope you like it :P **

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Usually, John was a considerably light sleeper. Years of service would do that to a person, but he'd always been like that – woken by the creaking of an opening door, a touch, sunlight in the room.

That being said, his sleeping patterns once Sherlock came into his life had been sporadic at best. Stakeouts, chasing down criminals at midnight, and then grabbing a very late dinner before they crashed (although sometimes John would drag himself off to bed while Sherlock stayed up longer, left-over adrenalin from solving a case keeping him up until his body shut down, for lack of a better term) tended to mess up his sleep.

Such was the case this time. Only, John had been so dead-beat after they'd gotten in so late that he'd merely kicked off his shoes and fell into the couch, asleep as soon as his eyes slid shut. The last thing he was aware of was Sherlock huffing an amused breath at him and moving to the kitchen table to presumably check up on his experiments.

Sunlight was streaming in from the window now, letting their living room light up awfully bright, and he groaned quietly to himself before trying to burrow under the pillow his head was resting on-

Wait, where'd that come from?

John frowned and squinted his eyes open against the light, letting them adjust while he realised that, along with the pillow that had most certainly not been there last night, two very warm somethings were now draped over him. One, he could feel, was the fleece blanket they kept there for the occasions when one would fall asleep on the couch.

The second, John had to glance down to make sure he was feeling right. Sure enough, a long arm draped over his waist, the pale hand hanging loose over the edge of the couch, its owner squished between John and the back of the couch and – judging by the even, warm breaths tickling the back of John's neck – fast asleep.

A smile tugged at his lips as John turned his head slightly so he could catch a glimpse of Sherlock's face, looking so innocent when he was dead to the world. Losing the hard edges in the sunlight like this, all vulnerable and with dark curls swept messily across his forehead, John took the moment to appreciate this rare side to his flat-mate that was hidden from the outside world.

John must have unknowingly moved, because all of a sudden, Sherlock's arm tightened and he curled around him even more until they were pressed flush against one another, John's back to Sherlock's front, and John laughed softly as the detective buried his face in the dip between John's collarbone and shoulder, mumbling a drowsy "Don't move."

"Not likely," John muttered back with a tired grin, moving his hand down to rest over Sherlock's, "with your cuddling."

He could feel the almost-petulant frown that he knew furrowed Sherlock's eyebrows. "I don't _cuddle_," he said, despite the obvious – well, _spooning_ that was going on.

"'Course you don't," John agreed with a yawn. He let his eyes slip shut, felt Sherlock's fingers curl around his waist and lips press against the side of his neck, below his left ear, and smiled softly just as he slipped back into the happy oblivion of sleep.

For all the disturbed nights that came with being Sherlock's partner, sometimes... he wouldn't change it if he could.

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**A/N:** *hands out de-meltinizers* xP

*hums One More Night*

Would absolutely love you if you reviewed ;) Actually, reviewers get free (moar) Jawnlock cuddles! Now how can you possibly say no? :P

Ta~  
iz. :)


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